Drew
by SibunAmber
Summary: there was nothing we could do about it. After all we'd done for them; the gods wouldn't do anything to help.


**Hey Y'all! Did you miss me? I've been on and off writing for the past year but I've worked out a schedule. If you have any requests please let me know! This story made me cry writing it, so good luck. Trust me, you'll need it. Enjoy! I posted this awhile back but deleted it from my profile. And I have been editing it. Hope you enjoy!**

When I was 24 me and Percy had our first child, drew. He was incredible. With my eyes and brains and Percy's hair and loyalty. He was always a happy child content with or without human interaction. He was so kind; he would never hurt a fly. Yet he could hold his own with other kids.

I work a major architecture company right in the heart of Manhattan. I started out as an intern with important tasks, such as copying papers and getting people coffee. However, I quickly rose to be the main architectural designer. I have my own office and everything. It was a dream come true. Being a famous architect, having my own family, and a nice lifestyle. Of course something had to go wrong.

One day, around a month before his 4th birthday, we took him in for his yearly check up. Everything was going great; he seemed to be healthy as ever. But then the doctor tested his lungs. He told us there was some "irregularity". When I asked what exactly he meant he wouldn't give me a straight answer. He just told us to go to the nearest hospital as soon as possible. He promised that it was only a small problem. He was very mistaken.

When we took him they said that we would be put on a list and, since he wasn't in any immediate danger, we would probably be waiting for a little while. It almost reassured me that there might not be anything but asthma.

We waited in the lobby for 3 hours before a smiling nurse, who had too much make up on and wore overtly tight clothing, took us back into a small room. She assured us that we would see a doctor as soon as possible. After about five minutes a doctor came in. He asked what the problem was and we told him what the pediatrician told us. He told us not to worry, that he would be fine. He lied.

He took drew back for some tests. He explained that his lungs might be a little small and so they would do a full body scan and that drew was going to be out in no more than 10 minutes. After an hour, we started to get really worried. Then the doctor came back.

He told us that there was a tumor in drew's left lung. He told us that as simple procedure would fix it. When I asked about the survival rate he got really quiet. He told us that it was not as high as some, but not anything to be worried about. After he left I started to cry. Who wouldn't? What else do you do when you find out your child has cancer. Percy hugged me as I sobbed.

The doctor came back again about two hours later, with drew. I had never been so relieved as I was at that moment. And I never would be that relieved again.

Drew was fine for about two months. That's when things took a turn for the worst. He started to have a hard time breathing. We took him back to the hospital after a particularly bad episode that ended in him hyperventilating and passing out.

They told us that the surgery hadn't worked as well as they thought, that it might have hurt him more than it helped him. The cancer had spread to his other lung. He was in and out of hospitals for nearly a year. That's when it got to its worst point.

It had spread throughout his entire body. The chance of survival was so small they could only count a handful of survivors. I stayed in his hospital room every night for a week. They took him in and out for various surgeries and procedures. They said they would help, that he might actually survive. They were wrong.

About a week later the cancer was declared terminal. My baby boy had no chance of surviving. He would never grow to fit into the clothing his aunt had bought him. They gave him about 6 months. How are you supposed to take news like that? I cried every night for a week. He was going to die, and there was nothing we could do about it. After all we'd done for them; the gods wouldn't do anything to help.

Drew never looked very sick. His hair was long gone but he still had spirit. He played with the other kids in the hospitals playroom. He got along with them well. He never looked like he was dying and yet he was. I don't know what was worse, knowing he was going to die or seeing him so happy one minute then writhing in pain the next. It hurt me to know he was living in such agony and pain. Could the gods not be merciful? Could they not have him experience this pain? I guess they didn't care that we saved Olympus, or at least they didn't care enough to give us a break. To let him survive or at least not experience this pain.

He died a month earlier than expected. I woke up in the room one morning and saw him. When I tried to wake him up he didn't move. I yelled and screamed, all the while shaking his little body but to no avail. They had to pull me off of him, to try the shock panels. Still nothing. The doctor looked to the nurse next to him and whispered "call it". He was really gone. Percy pulled me to him, trying to contain his own tears. I kissed Drew's forehead and they took him out of the room. It was just me and Percy and I wanted our little boy to be there to but he was no longer with us.

We went home that day. I walked with a purpose, into his room. I fell back onto his bed and cried. I didn't think I would ever stop crying. How do parents stop crying when they lose a child? Percy came in and sat on the edge of the bed. There was barely enough room for me and whatever space was left, he filled. I sat up and he held me, all the while stroking my hair and whispering that everything was going to be okay. But it wasn't going to be okay. How could it be okay?

I only slept about 10 hours in the following week. We cleared out him room during that time. We cleaned it up. As we took apart the bed all I could think about was how small it was. No child small enough to sleep there should be alive and well. I still sit in his empty room sometimes, just trying to talk to him even though he can't respond.

In that same week as the clearing out, the funeral took place. All of our friends showed up with their kids. Marcy and Kavin didn't understand. They were all the same age. When they went up their parents tried to explain. What they did understand made them cry. Marcy tried to touch him but piper pulled her back. Marcy didn't get why her friend was "asleep". If only she knew.

I couldn't say anything there. I tried, oh gods I tried. For about ten minutes I kept starting, then crying, then repeating. The burial was the worst part. Everyone took their roses and set them down on his casket. It was heartbreaking. That's when it finally set in, that he was gone, never to return. I started screaming, why me? Why me?

To this day I still don't understand, why me? Why not someone else? But even so, I would never wish this pain on even my worst enemy. It was too much at some points. Even now there are nights where me and Percy just hold each other, our tears sometimes soft and unspoken, others hard and loud sobs. He was our baby. And now he's gone.

We loved drew. But now he's gone. And one day, we will move on. Today, however, is not that day.


End file.
